Śmigus Dyngus and Zwanzgerle
by Nena et al
Summary: Based off of the plot of Motherly Instincts... Or Not, by Kit Yami. Fem!Switzerland and chibi!Poland spend Easter Monday together, each introducing the other to their traditions.


**Śmigus-Dyngus and Zwanzgerle**

_By Verena, of Verena-et-al_

_Forenote: This is based of the premise of__Motherly Instincts, Or Not…__by Kit Yami. That is, Poland has been chibified and female Switzerland is stuck taking care of of him. Nation names (not human names) used._

It was Zwanzgerle, Easter Monday, and Switzerland had been determined to make it just like any year, despite the slight... _variable_ in her plans. Then again, there wasn't really any way to predict any change in said variable- that is, having to take care of a child. Poland, no less. Through a magical mishap-England's fault, of course- the nation had been turned into a child. He had seemingly lost any memories of before he had been changed, but he was already warming up to the girl. That was not always a good thing, she began to realize that day.

The _slight_ variation to her plan began as soon as she woke up; no, even before that. It began the moment _he_ woke up. (Really, why must children wake up early only on holidays, yet you can't even drag them out of bed any other day...?) The child, in a sugar high from the day before, nearly bounced out of bed. Thoroughly exhausted, the female nation slept through the din he created. He scrabbled for his clothes, nearly putting the nice shirt she had bought for him on backwards (neither of the two had appropriately-sized clothing; she had no choice but to grudgingly part ways with the money). Dashing to the kitchen, he noisily pulled a bucket and a step stool from the cabinet beneath the sink and set to work, filling the former with water. Slowly and carefully lugging the container back to the bedroom, he grinned to himself, thinking that this would definitely be the best Śmigus-Dyngus ever.

Wobbling into the bedroom, the liquid sloshed about, threatening to spill onto the carpet. Placing the vessel near the nightstand, the nation struggled to pull the bed bench to the sleeping blonde's side and heaved the bucket onto the furniture. He ran to the other side of the bed and retrieved the bunch of willow branches he had left there the night before. He set the bunch down and climbed with slight difficulty onto the bench. With an _oof_, he lifted the heavy pail above his head. _Sploosh._

"Wh-what?!" the now-fully-awake Swiss cried, jerking upright and blowing water from her nose. Because of a certain troublemaker's antics, the bucket (now sitting upside down near her ankles) had contained enough of the liquid to soak her nearly from head to toe. Then she noticed the boy, smiling proudly at his work. "Poland, why would you-?!"

"It's, like, Śmigus-Dyngus!" he laughed, hopping down from his place and grabbing the willow branches. "You, like, didn't forget, did you?"

"Poland..." she sighed irritably, her anger dissipating only slightly. There was a reason for his actions, after all, however small. The wet sheets and pajamas sticking to her body uncomfortably, she left the bed. Her pink clothing clinging tightly to her, nearly see-through in some areas, she rolled up the pants, at least lessening the surface area. "Just becau-" She was cut off suddenly as she felt a lash from behind. It wasn't exactly painful, but it was extremely close. She looked down just in time to see the Pole running out from behind her legs, willow in hand, a wide smile on his face.

"I've never heard of such a thing," she replied. "Even if you're excited for whatever that is, you could have woken me up normally! And why do you have _these_?!" With that, she crouched down to eye-level and pointed at the branches.

"Eh? Like, no way!" the chibi shouted, puffing his cheeks out in a pout. "This is totally how it's celebrated, though!"

"Really," came the response, coupled with an emotionless gaze. "What exactly _is_ this Śmigus-Dyngus?"

"It's like, this holiday, and it's on Easter Monday..." The blond pulled a face as if he had just been asked to explain what living was. "So, it's this day when boys, like, dump water on and whip the legs of... um..."

"Of whom?" inquired the elder, raising an eyebrow interestedly.

"Never mind!" he dismissed, running off to the other side of the bed and plopping down, determined not to move until she would let the matter drop. "I totally didn't say anything!"

"..." The girl, never very good at interacting with people, crouched low to the ground and began to strip in silence. Reaching up, she plucked the neatly folded outfit from atop her nightstand. It _was_ Easter Monday, and she didn't seem to wear her uniform nearly as much since Poland had come to her house to 'turn her into the woman she was meant to be,' so she had long ago decided to wear something special. It was rather plain, but she liked it that way; it was a light blue dress, completed by the white... apron? Was that what it was called? Her fashionableness was about as good as her social skills. Dressed once more, she sat atop the bed, looking up at the ceiling for no real reason. "So, it's part of your Easter Monday, right? On Easter Monday in my house, we celebrate Zwanzgerle. The kids challenge the adults to an egg-cracking game. If the adult can crack the egg with a twenty cent coin, they keep their coin, and win the egg. If they can't, the child gets the coin and the egg. I kept a few of your eggs from the egg hunt yesterday. Would you like to try?"

Hearing a mumbled affirmative, she crossed the room and scooped the obstinate boy into her arms. "It's fine, okay? Don't let one little thing you didn't even say ruin your entire day." The younger nation merely nodded, looking down to avoid eye contact.

Minutes later, the mildly intrigued (yet still a bit frustrated) Pole stood in the kitchen, holding his red and white colored egg to the side. His hopeful voice betrayed his uninterested expression as he asked, "And you'll, like, just give me the money if you miss?"

"That's how the tradition goes," came the reply. "I wouldn't trick you like that." The girl took aim carefully. Having years of practice, she could hit it dead-on. She aimed just a bit higher, just slightly more to the left, and... _Clink._ The coin clattered to the floor, having barely hit the tip of the eggshell.

"Like, ohmigosh!" Poland giggled, staring at the coin on the floor in disbelief. "So, that means I can, like, have this, right? I totally thought you'd crack it, but you didn't! Aren't you, like, the best shot in Europe or something, with all those guns? But you couldn't even-"

As the boy chattered excitedly, Switzerland gave a soft, knowing smile. This probably counted as a trick... but she _had_ said she wouldn't trick him _like that_. This was... different, wasn't it?

"About your Easter Monday..." she began, realizing that she may be treading on dangerous ground. "Girls don't get to have any fun?"

"Like, of course they do!" he cheered. "Lately, some girls have been splashing guys! But that's totally tomorrow, usually."

"Usually?" she grinned slightly, happy that the other's mood seemed to brighten by the second. "So, we _could_ do it today?"

"You'd, like, want to do that?"

"Totally."

In what seemed incredibly uncharacteristic for the Swiss, the two actually had fun that Easter Monday. Neither would ever forget the day, they were sure. It was a strange sight- a young boy and much older girl playing a game of cat and mouse, acting as if neither one was sure of which was which. They ran and played until dusk, when the two set down their water balloons, willow branches, water guns and garden hoses and collapsed against each other, one laughing, one smiling as she hadn't smiled in what seemed to be an eternity.

"Hey, do you wanna know what I was talking about?" Poland asked through laughs and gasps for breath. "About Śmigus-Dyngus?"

"Of course," Switzerland affirmed, her breaths as deep as the other. "If you don't mind."

"On Śmigus-Dyngus, boys, like, whip the legs of and throw water on girls they like!" he explained happily, a slight blush of embarrassment forming. "And I, like... like you, you know?"

More than a bit surprised than the abrupt confession, the girl quickly changed from taken aback to genuinely appreciative. It was likely that the young nation had no idea what was meant. He probably had no grasp of real love; that was why he said such things, surely. Lying on the grassy earth, she embraced the innocent blond protectively, saving the memory into her mind. Sooner or later, the spell on him would wear off or be reversed. But for now, she had to make memories last.

"Thank you. I do believe I... like you too, Poland."

Best. Śmigus-Dyngus. Ever.

Of course, as according to Polish tradition, the boy would naturally be given a rather rude awakening as well the next day. But perhaps that is a tale for another time.


End file.
